Closed window

It could have been without the stubbornness, if instead of always silent, we would have talked; if instead of always speaking, we would have looked into each other's eyes.

It could have been without all the responsibility, if we could have done a break from everything else, if everything else wouldn't have to be a break.

It could have been without all the waiting, if the innocence had been there just for a visit, if the experience had been just another traveller.

It could have been without all the fear, if the courage would have kept walking, even those small or silences steps; if the guts would have allowed the breath that lungs weren't.

It could have been... but it's not. It simply hasn't been.